


a little bit of me; psh.

by arrowthroughtheheart



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: :), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Park Seonghwa is Whipped, Rating: M, Reader is a vampire, Suggestive Language too, Suggestive Themes, This Is STUPID, Vampire Bites, Vampire Park Seonghwa, but like, but like not rlly yk, dont take this seriously im gonna cry, idk what else to tag, is blood kink a thing, kinda OOC, like a lot, sigh, suck blood, they just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25030885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrowthroughtheheart/pseuds/arrowthroughtheheart
Summary: “What are you trying to say?” you ask, gaze absolutely dazed with something other than focus as your eyes float over to the juncture of Seonghwa’s neck, again.“I’m saying you can suck me if you want- m-my blood, I mean,” the other quickly reinforced his almost-slip-up, and you can feel his fingers wriggle on the side of your hips. “It helps.”“Oh, Seonghwa,” you chuckled, a little airy on the edges but you hope you conceived the gratitude openly enough nonetheless, “gladly, darling.”
Relationships: Park Seonghwa/Reader
Kudos: 18





	a little bit of me; psh.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marsenthusiast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsenthusiast/gifts), [geonbaehajalikeathunder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geonbaehajalikeathunder/gifts).



> i am: so embarassed SHBKSJFBKJNFLKDN im about to cry- this is someone's request and im just- kind of- idk if this even lives up to the art ( @/moosaicc on instagram ) it's inspired by but okay.

It was painfully easy to accept your fate.

It was painful because it was so easy. 

You’ve got nothing more to live for, though this thought process grew into an irony and nothing else since the events that will unfold will lead you to a life that lasts forever instead of losing the life you’ve never been fond of. You have been alone for almost the entirety of your life, and every time you met someone you thought could be worth it, they left. Or  _ you  _ left, since you’ve never been sure where the problem rose from. 

So it was painful in your heart when you laid there, your body giving up before your mentality ever accepted the fact that you were going to die. Death is an obvious solution in the kind of situation you were stuck in, on the dirty floor of a dark alley with only a few specks of light from the faulty street lamp across from both you and your murderer. 

You were sure it was a murderer, since you’ve been hurt twice with something as sharp as  _ at least  _ three knives, on your side and on your leg. It wasn’t helping that it looked like your murderer was lapping up the blood that seeped up from your stilled, shocked body. It was odd, but that wasn’t what was on your mind as you tried to move yourself up, to at least sit and gauge in your surroundings. 

But you were stopped before you could move further, though, the sole of your murderer’s shoes slammed against the side of your shoulder as their hands dug further to your sides and a shriek escaped you. There was no way no one  _ heard  _ you, if anyone was even around. The sharp knife-like things were  _ not  _ knives, your delirious mind supplied while you wheeze in fear and an attempt to minimize the pain. There were this person’s(?) nails. You didn’t have all the time in the world to be weirded out, though, since their words echoed in your mind. It still echoes until today, you thought to yourself, the foundation of your entirely new modified personality.

“As a token of thank you,” they said to you,  _ so,  _ so close to your face that you expected to feel their huffs of breath. You didn’t. “Should I not let you die?”

And then they bit into the spot between your neck junctures, breaking the skin and sinking their front set of teeth into you. It was all so sudden, and in a fast-paced count to ten you saw little fireflies here and there as if you’re losing oxygen. And blood.

So you woke up the next day as a fucking vampire, and it was so painfully easy to accept. Nothing had to change, despite the fact that you devoted your life to never being the same criminal as the one who changed you into who you are. It was truly an act of hate crime, according to you, since you’ve craved the ‘sweet’ release of death ever since you got out of your orphanage master’s iron fist and gambled your chances on surviving alone as nothing but a little scrawny thief. That asshole night-crawler, blood-sucker man, though, stripped you off of your rights to fucking die. And it pisses you off to no end, sure, but there’s also a little bit of something in the corner of your head that is. . . maybe, in a twisted way, thankful. 

If that weird man didn’t sink his nasty ass fangs into you and turn you into one of his own -  _ which is illegal, apparently, according to your new. . . friends  _ \- you wouldn’t meet these new people you grew to know and- familiarize yourself with. 

The day you woke up after being turned into a blood-sucker, as obvious as it might sound, you were hungry. Despite the ‘vampire-can’t-walk-in-the-daylight’ rumour being absolute bullshit, what was true was the fact that almost all of the blood-sucking kind  _ hates  _ the sun. And you were already the kind of human that hates going outside to begin with, so that doubled all of the nonstop hacking of bile that rose from your stomach, accompanied with the starvation that haunted your insides like an angry little puppy. Someone found you, though, a seemingly young man covered from head to toe with wool jackets and gloves and beanies. And even a pair of glasses. You figured out soon after that, the fact that Park Seonghwa  _ isn’t  _ young. He’s not even born in this century.

But he took you in, he and a few others. 

The people who eat things that aren’t usually eaten by normal humans but sometimes a few humans do enjoy eating it,  _ an alternative for the word vampire since you’ve grown to hate that word before you knew they were a real thing  _ \- lives in the same house. Well, it’s a house indeed. 

It was a weird rendition to something called a ‘house’, since from the outside, it sure does look like a house with all of its standard simplicity of a one-floored family house, painted white and decorated with innocent flowers. Inside was a whole different thing, though.

Seonghwa took you to the house by force, since you were hell-bent on not coming home with a random man you’ve just met after calming down from the worst fucking headache you could ever go through, but entering the house threw you in another loop.

There was the entrance, and a living room that greets you almost immediately after you enter. There’s a staircase leading up on the right, and two hallways leading both to the left and further into the center of the house, where you see  _ other  _ seemingly as pale and lethargically-moving evolved humans roam here and there, some dressed like people from the world war and the other dressed down in their pajamas with their fluffy sandals. Doors keep opening and closing everywhere, and there’s another trap-door underneath the staircase where you watch as one person dressed like an ancient era’s royalty climbs up from down below, granting you a chance of peaking through whatever it was underneath the house. 

Seonghwa was busy dismantling himself from his two layers of coats and glasses to give you a bored look. “I brought you in during busy hours. Breakfast was just finished and they’re always so restless before lunch. Most people here have normal contact with the outside world, but nothing more intense than night shifts, probably. As far as I know, there’s little to no problem yet, but everyone is advised against living by themselves, since you know,” he waved a hand, “logistics. And paper works.”

He looked so tired back then that you wondered how you didn’t realize that he’s one of the vampire people’s paperwork workers - but then again it’s not like you can smell parchments on his skin, or whatever. Aside from the fact that it’ll be against any type of creature-consent to just sniff on someone when you  _ just  _ met them. Except maybe the furries. Let’s not get there, maybe.

“Are you telling me that you all live here legally?” you asked, looking around while shifting from one foot to the other, avoiding direct contact with anyone zooming past both of you. The front door hadn’t opened yet, true to what Seonghwa told you with the vampire people being mostly night-shift workers and it’s only 10 in the morning when you two arrived. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes on you, that time, clearing his throat. “You mean  _ we  _ all,” he corrected, seemingly undisturbed while he rummaged for something in his bag, “you’re a part of this now.”

The words are the type to be scary, if twisted correctly, but Seonghwa seemed oddly and uncharacteristically calm for someone who looks like he could be set off in two seconds, so it didn’t alarm you. 

What did alarm you was how fast you cling to him for almost  _ everything. _

Seonghwa called you out on your clinginess one day, and every time you remembered it, you wished that you wouldn’t. 

Since the fact that you’re a newly turned blood-consumer person and Seonghwa has complained at least five times in the first few days of him meeting you about the paperworks, you decided to help him out with it, and in return you wouldn’t have to meet the outside world and look for a new job at night under your new circumstances in a few months, at least. It also helped that you’re used to typing things as a hobby. 

Knowing this fact, you’re mostly at work with Seonghwa every night, since by day the older non-human man is usually too tired and groggy to function clearly, which leads into a lot of petty fights with his peers and boss, if he’s lucky. But he always looks kinda grumpy, and the furthest you’ve seen him smile was a lopsided grin he gave you when the infamous calling-out happened that one day, in the kitchen, while you slurp your bag of pig blood while drowning in your own self-destructive thoughts.

“Are you. . . feeling okay?” he asked, eyes never leaving the side of your face, though you don’t realize this fact much to his dismay. “Sure,” was all that came out of your mouth, before a sentence followed before you could stop yourself, “do I look like I’m not?”

Seonghwa shrugged, leaning back on his chair while his passive set of arms reach up to his own neck, fixing his tie dully. 

“D’ know,” he mumbled, making a point to dramatically slurp the rest of his lunch portion before balling the paper box up to throw them into a trash can behind you, “there’s just sumn’ different ‘bout you.”

Seonghwa always speaks like this, lazy and non-energetic like despite the fact that his physiques would tell you otherwise, that he would speak with equal charisma and charm as his facial structures. Which isn’t the case at all, since you have to crane your neck to listen to him speak, most of the time, when he’s not acting professional. 

“Different how?” you tried again, your forehead now creasing in confusion. Seonghwa reached up like it’s the most casual thing he’s ever done, running his fingers on your forehead, mumbling a ‘no, no, no’ while he tried to stop your frown, though his own face is now decorated with a genuine pout. It was almost funny. “It’s not a bad difference,” he tilted his head, leaning away when you stopped frowning - simply because you can’t bear having him dote over your face longer than he already did. “Just. . .” he trailed off, and if you didn’t know better you’d say he’s about to laugh at you, “a little clingy.”

You sat there, emptied lunch in hand, eyes turned round. This went on for a few seconds, and even Seonghwa was beginning to avoid your eye-contact. 

“Clingy?” you asked, and he nodded. “To- to  _ who?” _

Seonghwa caught your eyes again, open and transparent while he tried to read your facial expressions. You were utterly confused, and he was able to get that, thankfully, since his right hand moved robotically before he nudged his own chest, right above his non-beating heart, and all of a sudden it just felt like  _ your  _ dead heart was pumping too much blood for the second and you can feel the embarrassment rising in your throat. 

That episode ended with you running off - though subtly with bullshit reasoning like wanting to go take a bath - and Seonghwa teetering on the edge of passing out from not breathing. . . as if he breathes in the first place.

Another episode that puts the absolute nail on the coffin was the one where you saw a child at a night-market on your one-year death anniversary. Celebrating your death started out as some sick joke Seonghwa threw at your direction, not thinking that your mind is fucked up enough to actually go through with it. There’s a lot of fucked-up-ness in you that Seonghwa hasn’t seen yet, though it was probably okay. It’s not like either of you were in any kind of hurry.

Or any kind of relationship stage.

It weirded you out for being as emotionally intimate with someone without any kinds of repercussions and demands for the first time ever in your life, and not putting the relationship on a pedestal so that you hurry into labelling yourself is also a lot new. Maybe Seonghwa  _ is  _ a lot more emotionally mature, you thought to yourself a lot, even when he acts like he isn’t most times than not. It felt good to depend on someone, and in other times be depended on. And to be open to a communication where both sides want to listen to the others’ explanation to prolong the fuse from blowing up, or turning it off completely.

It sounds a little fast when you recite it in your head, but it felt oddly nice, beside Seonghwa, his left hand tucked to your coat as he pretends to hate being there at all. Felt right. And comforting.

But when you saw a child with the same exact shirt you had when you were barely eight years old, with your parents and their  _ still  _ kept up facade at the time, the lies they spewed about loving you and never giving you up even though you’ve gave them enough problem they would ever ask for - the memories came flooding in like a tsunami met a fucking storm, and in a few seconds your knees gave out under you and you started shaking.

Apparently, there’s obviously a few things you did while you blacked out from all the horrible, horrible memories you triggered when you saw a little innocent kid since when you came to it, you’re koala-straddling Seonghwa as he sits you on his lap in the living room, his oddly comforting but cold hands running through your back as softly as he’s allowed to. The living room’s lighting was dimmed manually by both of your mutual friend, Hongjoong, who was kneeling with furrowed eyebrows while he toyed with the lamp switch - and you had the surge of need to rest your head deeper into Seonghwa’s neck in seek of warmth, or maybe comfort. 

Hongjoong looked up at the lights on the roof, deemed it dimmed and right enough before he stood, walking back towards the couch, caught your eyes in the process. 

“Ah,” he chuckled, quietly, and you feel the side of the couch dip as he presumably sat down beside Seonghwa, “they’re awake.”

A hum rumbled through Seonghwa’s chest, and the vibrations tucked you closer and closer to the man’s neck. It’s a random sort of attraction, you wrongly assumed, but you have to admit that you’ve never felt this much. . . pull. Or maybe yet. Maybe there’s going to be an instance where this kind of attraction would turn normal and maybe that time is now.

So you lean back, and for that short instance you can see Seonghwa’s eyes focusing on you from the corner of your eyes, but even that was thoroughly ignored by your senses as you dive all the way forward to latch your mouth on the side of Seonghwa’s neck, a gentle nibble following right along the initial peck you landed on the surface of his skin.

Hongjoong cackled beside you, but you can’t hear his commentary clearly enough. All you got was the few words you stringed together as something of this sort: “They  _ do  _ need to be comforted, Hwa.”

Seonghwa did a little grumble as a response to Hongjoong’s wiggly eyebrows (you assumed) before he stood from the sofa abruptly, one of his hands holding you up and the other securing your hold onto him around the middle of your back. The abrupt standing made you stop latching your itching teeth from his neck though, as you slipped and your chin met his shoulder blades and your teeth clashed together in a roughly loud kind of noise. 

“Oh-” Seonghwa gasped, guilt laced in his tone while the arm he had around your back quickly shot upwards to cradle your head. “I’m sorry, sorry,” he leans forward to tuck your shoulders underneath his chin to return you back to your previous position, since you leaned away from his neck to be able to show your protest with a teary-eyed pout a few seconds ago. “It’s okay now, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you again,” Seonghwa now runs his fingers through your hair, walking away from the living room towards the stairs, and you briefly notice that it’s the path to his room that you visited almost every other night. 

_ To fucking play UNO. Chill y’alls tits. _

The dimmed lights went further and further away as Seonghwa clicked his door open, and the overwhelmingly-Seonghwa atmosphere in his room almost made you whimper in delight. You lay your head on his shoulder, watching as he takes his shoes off, heading straight to bed. “Alright, let me just. . .” he cuts himself mid-sentence with a groan after sitting down, back on his bed frame since a little bump of something in the back of his pockets was blocking him from sitting comfortably. Seonghwa fished his phone out of his pants before both of his hands settled on the side of your hips, trying to guide you off of his neck for a conversation. 

Something you desperately want to avoid.

“You can drink a little bit of me,” he voiced out, pronunciation more clear than any other time you’ve heard him talk in your life. You, still drunk of your life angst and delirious from how much attraction your mouth has on Seonghwa’s stupid neck, whispered a little “huh?”. You know, like the Einstein you are.

“You can have a little bit of my blood, I mean,” he starts again, now looking a tad bit more shy than before, avoiding eye-contact by all means. “Just because- uh. . . it  _ is  _ kind of hard for someone who just turned to control their thirst for human blood. And we. . . we don’t drink human blood unless they’re a donor, and even then we don’t drink straight from them. We do feed each other just because, though. For. . . for comfort.”

“What are you trying to say?” you ask, gaze absolutely dazed with something other than focus as your eyes float over to the juncture of Seonghwa’s neck,  _ again. _

“I’m saying you can suck me if you want- m-my _ blood, _ I mean,” the other quickly reinforced his almost-slip-up, and you can feel his fingers wriggle on the side of your hips. “It helps.”

“Oh, Seonghwa,” you chuckled, a little airy on the edges but you hope you conceived the gratitude openly enough nonetheless,  _ “gladly,  _ darling.”

As you dive back in to suckle on his neck though, his right hand flew up to hold you from moving entirely, settling on the back of your neck. This motion made you automatically look up at him, your heady eyes meeting his strict and serious eyes, almost a whole other world different than how he looked a few fucking seconds ago. He trailed his eyes across your face before settling to look at you right in the eyes, a stern little command slipping out of his lips. “Slow down, little fledgling,” he mutters, “we don’t like getting hurt, do we?”

With one of his hands guiding you slowly towards his neck, your mind didn’t register his other hand inching downwards little by little, away from your hips. 

Your lips came in contact with the side of his neck you’ve marked and turned red from the previous ministrations, the sound of skin being sucked echoed in both of your ears as you almost hungrily start descending your front fangs into his tender skin. The skin barely broke when Seonghwa hisses, softly, the grip on the back of your neck tightening, and if you needed air to breathe your intake would be shortened a little bit by now. 

“Slow,” Seonghwa reminds you, accompanied by a broken rendition of your name torned between a slightly pained whimper and a satisfied sigh. You don’t listen, both of your arms now clinging to his shoulder as support while you try your best to sink your itching teeth into his seemingly ravishing, bloody scent. 

When the skin finally breaks, Seonghwa is torn in two ends of calling your name as a little reminder or giving himself up and moaned in an unfamiliar delight, but he ended up doing both in the span of point one second, and you feel your grip around him and his around you tighten in acknowledgement. 

A few seconds passed with Seonghwa lightly panting and your tongue busily lapping up every single droplet of blood seeping out of the two little holes your teeth dug into before you heard his voice again, now a little more strained and shaky than the last time you heard it. “Stop.”

You heard it, yes. You registered it in your mind as a request, or more of an order to stop, but did nothing to follow through with it. Are you scared of the circumstances? Maybe. But not now. 

Maybe you  _ also  _ underestimated Seonghwa’s overpowering power over you since you’ve never seen it in action before, and you are certainly not  _ (sure, sure)  _ wishing to the Gods to see it now, but it almost shocked you out of your dazed and lustful state when he uses both of his large hands to pull you away from his neck, blood splattering everywhere connected to your teeth and his disheveled button-up shirt while he tries to meet your eyes.

“I said  _ stop.” _

A whine came out of you, a sound that possibly made his pupils enlarge and his entire eyes darken when you grind yourself down on his lap while diving back to lick up the mess of blood you weren’t able to fully drink in when he unlatched you from his neck. You gave his exposed skin kitten licks, very obvious to the way his eyes followed you everywhere until you were back on your sitting position, still perched on his lap, head tilted in faux-innocence.

When you let your tongue lick your own lips clean of all the substance you were drinking up, Seonghwa lets his self-restraints come loose as he pulls your lips onto his in a fervor of emotions, and well. . .

_ That’s  _ a kiss you were waiting for, isn’t it.

**Author's Note:**

> i am literally gonna fucking die why tf did i write that what the actual-


End file.
